


Sex On Fire:  Vignettes of The 48 Hours

by BramwellBern



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 04:11:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BramwellBern/pseuds/BramwellBern
Summary: There's no plot here really.  Just moments I imagine might have happened during the 48 hours Bernie was visiting before the trauma unit opening in Nairobi.  Some will be fluff.  There will be a lot of smut.  I'm not a fiction writer so this little project is my way of trying to teach myself a few things (hopefully) by utilizing two characters I love so much.  Helpful criticism and suggestions are always appreciated, but please....don't be nasty.  The world has enough of that as it is.





	Sex On Fire:  Vignettes of The 48 Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Title and bit of text at the beginning of the chapter are taken from the song by Kings of Leon "Sex on Fire". https://youtu.be/RF0HhrwIwp0

"….Hot as a fever  
Rattle of bones  
I could just taste it  
Taste it…."

1\. The Front Door

“Drive!” 

Serena doesn’t need to be told twice to push her foot down on the gas pedal. The sooner she gets big macho army medic back to her leafy-detached the better. So many questions to ask, things to tell, so huge the need to just drink in every bit of the blonde, to touch. Every minute of the next 48 hours mustn’t be wasted, god knows it will end soon enough. The blonde turns her head, reaching for Serena's free hand, twining their fingers together, then turns her head back to the window to stare out into the night as they speed past Holby’s lights: Street lamps. Storefronts awash in cold fluorescent, and the odd dog walker sporting a head lamp for safety. The pin pricks of fairy lights in University housing. The flicker of TVs and the occasional porch light from family dwellings. Bernie remembers driving past all of this herself countless times for shiraz soaked late night takeaways, and laughter-filled evenings of quiz shows and Dr Who, the memories warming her even as she recalls the sadnesses that taint them: Elinor’s dying and Serena’s leaving. 

Lost in her thoughts, Bernie doesn’t realize they have arrived at Serena’s and have actually been stopped for a number of minutes. 

“Shall I leave you out here to sit all night, or can I persuade you to come inside and play?”

“Hmmm? What?” she asks, a swish of blonde curls as she turns to face the brunette.

Chuckling at her confusion, Serena leans over to her, her hot breath ghosting along Bernie’s ear, flowing down her neck, “I want you. Inside. Bedroom. NOW,” she says in her lowest, gravelly voice. Her eyes flash with naughtiness and desire as she pulls back, quirking her eyebrow for emphasis, knowing full well what it does to the blonde. Bernie unbuckles her seat belt and makes to retrieve her case from the boot when she hears Serena again:

“Don’t worry about your case. You won’t be needing it tonight.” She purrs, walking slowly backwards, eyes dark and blown and directed straight at Bernie. “I’ve got everything you need, right..here.” She runs her fingers through her silvered hair and kicks at some stones with her foot. Bernie flushes, overcome by the heat traveling from her toes to her face. Only Serena can make her this dizzy with want with words alone, and she’s been wanting this moment all day, (for five months!), and practically skips up the steps and through the door only to be pushed flat against it as soon as it shuts. 

Still in coats and shoes, Serena pushes apart Bernie’s coat and finds and works the zipper to her skinny jeans, her parched tongue licking a path up Bernie’s neck, relishing in her first drink of the blonde’s skin in months. Their lips meet roughly, a battle of tongues turning to a slow dance as Bernie grasps and caresses Serena’s breasts, revelling in their fullness. Serena moans, momentarily distracted from pushing her hand down the front of the blonde’s jeans by the ravishing of her hard nipples: Bernie gently traces their shape through the fabric of her blouse with her tongue, then pinches hard and pulls at them as her tongue resumes tasting every corner of Serena’s mouth. Dazed with pleasure, Serena refocuses, shoving her hand down the front of the blonde’s jeans and slipping her fingers into her delicious wet heat; within seconds Bernie doing the same to her. 

“God, Srena…you’re drenched.…”  
“Bernie…all day…”

They stand with their foreheads touching. No words. No movement. Panting. After minutes of looking at each other, eye to eye, their hands move in unison. Fingers slip in and out of soft, liquid heat, folds of velvety softness, circling the hard bundle of nerves. Never once looking away, eyes locked. Serena presses her thumb on Bernie’s clit just so with two fingers curled inside her, Bernie’s hand again mirroring the same actions. They kiss long and hard as the speed of their fingers slowly builds, in and out, and they rock together, back and forth as one, the weight of them falling hard against the door each time, each fall against the door punctuated by thumbs pressing on clits. Finally, they come—with perspiration covering their foreheads and hands aching—Bernie with a deep guttural moan, one hand buried in Serena’s silvered hair pulling her close; and Serena with a string of fucks, her free hand pressed hard against the door beside Bernie’s head. 

Minutes of breathing. Stillness. 

“I take it you missed me?” Bernie pants with a light laugh, making the brunette laugh in turn. 

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait. Fuck. I have missed you and I …”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been wanting to do this all day. Thinking of this, it’s…It’s been a long day getting to here, to now.…It’s been a long five months.” She drops her head to Serena’s shoulder in exhaustion, in happiness. 

“Well…. welcome home soldier.” They kiss; Serena slowly removes her hand from Bernie’s knickers bringing her fingers to her mouth. “The evening’s just getting started…” Bernie gasps as Serena licks and sucks every trace of Bernie’s arousal from her fingers, eyes dark yet twinkling, and promising more.

The brunette chuckles and turns away to make up the stairs, but Bernie pulls on her scarf. 

“I’m not done with you , Ms Campbell.” 

Serena catches the scarf before it’s completely pulled off. 

“And I’m not done with you, Ms Wolfe. But best take this upstairs where we can get a titch more comfy.” 

She winks, and grasping her end of the scarf, Serena slowly pulls a flushed and smiling Bernie up the stairs behind her.


End file.
